


An Alpha's World

by CR Noble (erudite12)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abuse, Bullying, Discrimination, Drinking, Gen, Language, Neglect, SPN A/B/O Bingo, Unwanted Advances, Violence, a/b/o dynamics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 14:45:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11899941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erudite12/pseuds/CR%20Noble
Summary: A/N: I am super excited about this series, it’s my very first A/B/O series, and I am writing it to fill in squares for A/B/O Bingo! Thank you to the wonderful @thinkwritexpress-official for betaing this for me!! You’re amazing and I love you!!





	An Alpha's World

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I am super excited about this series, it’s my very first A/B/O series, and I am writing it to fill in squares for A/B/O Bingo! Thank you to the wonderful @thinkwritexpress-official for betaing this for me!! You’re amazing and I love you!!

You were expecting something like this to happen. Something like this always happened. It was clear that you were unwanted everywhere you went. You looked up at the banner hung between two windows directly above your parking spot. “GO HOME ALPHA CUNT” it read. It was starting already, and you hadn’t even made it into the building for your first day.  You took a deep breath and tried to get a handle on the rage coursing through your veins. You fought tooth and nail to get this job and you sure as hell weren’t going to give them a reason to get rid of you on your first day. You stepped out of your car and walked straight toward Dean Morningstar’s office. Fortunately, it was early and there weren’t many people walking around the campus.

Princeton, like all of the best universities in the country, was an Alpha-only school. Occasionally the accepted an overachieving Beta. Omegas were out of the question. Someone like you? Well, you were worse than an Omega. Omegas held a place in society. You were an abomination. There was no place for you. Anywhere.

When you presented in rut, the experience was overwhelming and terrifying. You could smell every Omega for a city block, and all you could think about was pinning one of them under you and fucking them until the blinding need for release was gone. Your Omega mother realized what was happening and she locked you in your closet. She said it was for your own protection. There was no light in there. She didn’t bring you food or water. She didn’t even give you a bucket to piss in. She left you in there for days. By the time she let you out, you could barely speak because your throat was so hoarse from screaming, and your hands and arms were bloody from beating your frustration into the walls. The violent anger and aggression that came with the rut stayed with you long after it was over.

Over the years, you learned to control it, or at least channel the energy into something productive. It was how you managed to be so successful in school, and it was how you managed to worm your way onto the staff at Princeton University.

Dean Morningstar’s office door was open, but you still knocked before walking in. The dean sat at his desk, and he looked up at you and smiled. You might have mistaken it for a genuine smile, but it didn’t reach his icy blue eyes.

“Miss Y/L/N,” he said, “come on in. What can I do for you?” He gestured for you to have a seat in a leather chair on this side of the desk.

“No need for me to sit, sir,” you said, “I just wanted to confirm the location of my office and my classroom.” You watched him carefully, internally debating whether you should tell him about the banner.

“I can confirm the location of your class, but you don’t get an office.” He wasn’t smiling anymore. In fact, his face was completely emotionless.

“I don’t understand. If I don’t have an office, where am I supposed to work?”

“That’s not really my problem, Miss Y/L/N. I’m not expecting you to be here very long, anyway.” He leaned forward over his desk and rested his head against one hand as he spoke.

You should have known you wouldn’t have any allies here. You just nodded curtly and confirmed the hall and room number of your classroom. You decided against telling him about the banner. You had a sneaking suspicion that he already knew.

* * *

 

You had everything set up for the first class of the morning about fifteen minutes early, so you decided to step into a break room you spotted on your way into Baker Hall and grab a cup of coffee. You knew it was a mistake as soon as you walked in. There were a few professors sitting at a small table, and they all turned to look at you. One of them, a tall, dark-haired man, looked you up and down with a scowl, and excused himself before walking out of the room. There was no discernible scent as he passed you. Definitely a Beta, which explained why his reaction was so subtle.

“What the fuck are you doing in here?” asked one of the others.

You bit back your Alpha instinct to retaliate at the tone of his question and ignored him as you poured yourself a cup of steaming black coffee. When you turned around, he was moving toward you. You steeled yourself for whatever was coming next. The look on his face said it was going to be bad. He didn’t stop until he was so close you could see the flecks of blue in his green eyes. Alpha scents rolled off of him in waves, so strong your nose stung and your eyes started to water.

“Your kind is not welcome here,” he hissed.

The anger burned through you. Who the fuck did this asshole think he was? If he thought you were going to back down, he was sorely mistaken. You really needed to calm down. If you hit him, you were done. Goodbye, Princeton. And probably any other job, anywhere, ever.

“Back. Up.” You leaned forward as you spoke, teetering on the edge of cliff you couldn’t allow yourself to fall off of.

He laughed in your face, but didn’t move. The two of you stayed nose to nose for what seemed like forever, until the other professor, a tall, middle-aged black man stood up and walked over to your Alpha staredown.

“Michael,” he whispered in his companion’s ear, “if you lay a hand on her, it’s your ass.”

Michael seemed to take the hint, backing away from you a little and nodding to his friend. But he couldn’t just leave it at that and walk away. Instead, he leaned over, looking you directly in the eye and spit in your coffee before walking out of the room.

Your entire body shook with rage. You crushed the styrofoam cup in your hand, and you didn’t even feel the pain as rivulets of scalding coffee ran down your arm to drip from your elbow.

You calmed yourself considerably by the time you cleaned up the coffee mess and walked back to your classroom. Students were waiting for you to arrive, and you could hear them talking and laughing before you opened the door. When you walked in, all eyes were on you and a hush fell over the room. You walked over to your desk and looked out at the room full of young Alpha males. You took a deep breath and started class.

“I apologize for my tardiness,” you began, “I am professor Y/L/N. Welcome to…” You were cut off by a raucous laugh.

“Didn’t you see the banner?” The laughter spread through the room. “Go home, bitch, while you still can.”

The apparent threat had your hands balled into fists at your sides, and a red flush of anger spreading across your face. How the hell were you supposed to teach a class like this?

* * *

 

By the end of the day, you couldn’t wait to get into your car and the hell away from the university. You knew it was going to be hard, but your dream job was more like hell on earth.

Lunch was almost the highlight of your day. No one had bothered you. The social order of the university was like a huge pack, and when several students openly scented you and walked away without saying anything, you took it as a sign that at least some people were accepting you. Until you walked your tray over to the nearest trash can, anyway. As you moved to dump the garbage off the tray, you saw a flyer. There was a picture of you on it, with the words “What does an abomination smell like? Scent the new professor to find out.”

Your classes didn’t get any easier throughout the day, either. At the beginning of your third class, a student walked in late, and took one look at you before scanning the faces of the students that were already sitting in the class and walking out the door. A few of the other students packed up their books and followed him.

* * *

 

The banner was still hanging on the side of the building when you backed your car out of its parking spot. You wished you wanted to cry. That’s what most people would want to do after a day like that, right? Not you. You wanted to fight. Or fuck. And drink. You were definitely going to drink.

You knew it would be best if you just went home and cracked a fifth of whiskey, but instead you drove until you found yourself parked at an out-of-town, hole in the wall bar. It was crowded, judging by the number of cars in the parking lot, and with all of the scents that would be mixing in there, you might be able to hide the fact that you were an Alpha. If not, well, then maybe you would get that fight you were looking for.

The cornucopia of scents that bombarded you when you stepped into the dim light of the bar burned your nose. You’d have to be right on top of someone to scent them, which was a good thing, as far as you were concerned. People would probably leave you alone. You went straight to the bar and waited for the bartender to notice you. When he was finally able to make his way over to you, he smiled and asked what he could get you.

He was handsome. Really tall, definitely over six feet, with shaggy brown hair and a well-muscled physique, all wrapped up in a green and gray flannel shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He brought you drink after drink, and didn’t seem to be much of a talker. You were grateful for that, talking to people usually got you in trouble. You just sat quietly and drank while you toyed with a plastic umbrella that lay discarded on the bar. Nobody even noticed you until you were about five Old Fashioneds in.

“Hey, sweetheart,” a gruff voice said from your right. A bearded man slid onto the bar stool next to yours. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?”

You took another sip of your drink and laughed without bothering to look over at him.

“No,” you said sharply. It came out a little louder than you intended, and it caught the attention of the bartender.

“Aw, come on, honey,” the bearded man said, “I’m just trying to make friendly conversation.”

“I’m only going to say this once. You’re making a mistake. I’m not interested.” You looked at him as you tried to clamp down on the ugly part of you that would enjoy ripping the man’s lungs out.

“Maybe you’re the one making the mistake, sweetheart.” The bearded asshole reached over and put a hand on your arm. A savage grin crossed your face as you grabbed his wrist and jammed the tiny pink umbrella into his hand. You bared your teeth and leaned in close.

“You might want to rethink your choices, buddy,” you whispered savagely. God, you wanted him to fight back so badly.

He struggled to pull his hand away, but your firm grip on his wrist held him in place.

“Alpha? You’re an Alpha?” he gasped, finally scenting you.

Before you could respond, a shadow fell over you, and you looked up to see the bartender watching the exchange intently. You immediately let go, allowing the bearded man to clutch his bloody hand.

“She said she wasn’t interested, asshole,” the flannel-clad giant said calmly.

“She attacked me!” Bearded man said, grimacing as he pulled on the embedded umbrella.

“Yeah.” The bartender smiled and leaned toward him. “You should probably leave before I let her finish what she started.”

“That’s bullshit! This Alpha bitch stabbed me, and you’re throwing me out?” The bearded man was shouting as he stood and waved his still bleeding hand around, leaving tiny blood splatters all over the bar. Everyone in the building was watching intently.

“I’m sorry,” you said to the bartender, “I didn’t mean to cause trouble. I’ll go.” You started to get up, but he shook his head.

“You can stay.”

The bearded man let out a string of expletives that would make a sailor proud, and you were sure he was going to hit the bartender. Before he had the chance, another man walked up and started pulling him away.

“I’ll get him out of here, Sam,” the new guy said. He said something you couldn’t hear to the bearded man, who calmed considerably as he was led out of the bar.

“You could probably use another drink,” Sam said as he mixed another Old Fashioned. He smiled and set it down in front of you. You sank back down onto the barstool. “This one’s on the house.”

“What? No, I can’t…”

“Don’t worry about it,” he cut you off with another smile and walked away before you had the chance to respond.

What the fuck just happened? Anyone else would have tossed you out on your ass, but Sam sided with you, and gave you a free drink to boot. The rest of the bar had lost interest in you, so you sat and quietly watched Sam mix drinks, smile, and laugh with people at the bar.

You stayed far longer than you should have, and as 2 A.M. approached, the crowd started thinning considerably. Maybe it was an effect of the considerable amount of alcohol you consumed, but you were intrigued by Sam. You knew tomorrow would be a long day, and that you should really head home, but you couldn’t seem to make yourself leave the bar. You watched him wiping down the lacquered hardwood of the bar you now had to yourself.

“Hey,” you said as he got closer to you, “thanks.”

“Not a problem.” Sam smiled at you and kept cleaning.

You found yourself really wanting to talk to Sam, but you couldn’t seem to find the words, so you continued drinking in silence. You lost count of how many drinks you had, and Sam just kept them coming. He didn’t push for conversation, but you caught him looking at you more than once as he worked.

Your thoughts were muddled now, and as far as you could tell, everyone else had left. You looked down at your watch to see what time it was, but the face was so blurry you couldn’t make anything out. Whatever. It was definitely time for you to leave. Hopefully you could make it back to your apartment without getting pulled over. Or dying in a fiery crash. You snorted to yourself at the thought, and downed the last of the liquor in your glass.

You stood up and turned to go, and the last thing you remembered was the whole bar tilting sideways. You were out before you hit the floor.


End file.
